


And for a moment I don't even care

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Comfort fic, Fluff, M/M, Summer of Like, shared shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4412837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Mikey are an open secret on Warped, so when there’s a hotel night, Pete is certain that both band members and crew are assuming that they will be getting up to all sorts in the privacy of a locked hotel room.</p>
<p>Really, all Pete wants is a long shower and an even longer cuddle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And for a moment I don't even care

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for swearing and nudity. No shenanigans. Unbetad. Title is from Volbeat / Heaven Nor Hell <3

Pete and Mikey are an open secret on Warped, so when there’s a hotel night, Pete is certain that both band members and crew are assuming that they will be getting up to all sorts in the privacy of a locked hotel room.

Really, all Pete wants is a long shower and an even longer cuddle.

Pete ignores the little smirks that he and Mikey get as they all say goodbyes for the night, as if everyone _knows_ what’s going to happen. They don’t know, but that doesn’t matter.

“Have fun Mikeyway,” Frank leers, and then mimes a blowjob motion as he backs away and heads towards the room he’ll be sharing with Gerard for the night. Mikey blushes and flips him off just as Pete swipes their room card and pushes the door open.

“Fucking Iero,” Mikey mumbles, but he follows Pete inside and dumps his bag beside Pete’s, closing the door behind him.  
“Ignore him.”  
“Don’t have to. We have an Iero free zone until eight thirty tomorrow morning.”  
“We do,” Pete grins. He kicks his sneakers off and then throws himself on the bed. He bounces a little, feeling how nice the mattress is. It’s not exactly a top-of-the-line hotel, but it’s a spacious queen size bed, it’s comfortable, and a far cry from a little bunk. “Come here.” 

Mikey gives him a little smile and comes up onto the bed. There’s a few little kisses, just to the cement the fact that this is _their_ room for the night, and they can do as they please; if they want to have a naked pizza party, then that’s just fine. If they want to take turns sleeping stretched out like starfish, then that’s fine too. The point is that it doesn’t matter, because no one but them will dictate how their evening goes.

Pete wraps his arm around Mikey, as Mikey shuffles down to get his head on Pete’s chest and gets comfortable. Pete places a little kiss on Mikey’s forehead and then stretches his free arm over the empty bed-space beside him, swiping it over the bedcovers repeatedly. Mikey watches him and giggles, and _god_ Pete may never get over how beautiful it sounds when Mikey Way giggles.

“Just enjoying the extra space,” Pete says, and Mikey tightens his grip in Pete’s shirt in reply.

Several days ago, holed up in Pete’s bunk, Pete had banged his head on the wall of his stupid, shitty, tiny bunk, while trying to climb over Mikey to cuddle him properly. This displeased him, because all he wanted to do was get as close to Mikey as possible, and feel all comfortable and nice, and instead he came close to a head injury.

“This bunk is too fucking small,” he’d grumbled.  
“All bunks are too fucking small.”  
“We have a hotel night in three days’ time.”  
“That’s true.”  
“So I can’t wait to stretch out in an actual bed.”  
“Me too.”  
“You want to room with me? I’m sure we can switch around so that we can do it?”

Mikey had cocked an eyebrow. “Do it?”

Pete felt his cheeks heat up. He hadn’t meant that sort of _do it_ , they’re not quite there yet even if they’ve been fooling around together for weeks now. That sort of _do it_ still felt daunting, and it could wait another while yet. 

“Well, I mean room together. Imagine a big bed to cuddle in,” Pete said, hoping his mega-watt blush wasn’t so visible.  
“I like the way you think. I’m in. What else can we do?”  
“Leave dirty clothes on the floor? That’s not allowed in a shared bus.”  
“That’s true. Let’s do that too. And have a really long shower with no timer, and no one banging on the door to hurry up.”  
“Fuck, this is going to be the best hotel night _ever_.” 

So far, all Pete has done is stretch out and then cuddle Mikey, but it’s a pretty fucking good hotel night even just at that. The side of Mikey’s face is mostly pressed against Pete’s chest, but not so much that Pete can feel the frame of Mikey’s glasses.

Mikey’s warm and comforting and silent. Both the Fall Out Boy and My Chem sets had been amazing today; sweaty and frantic and loud, but so good, so it’s a stark contrast. Pete had watched Mikey from the sidelines while Mikey was on stage, while he tried and failed to keep his huge grin in check.

“Shower?” Pete asks, and when they first mentioned long showers in their hotel-nest it had been assumed that they would be single showers, because that’s normal. But really the more they talked about it, the more it makes sense to have a shower together; twice as much shower time and twice as much hot water. And then there’s the shared nakedness too, of course.

“Yeah.”

Mikey uncurls himself from around Pete, dropping another kiss to Pete’s lips before he gets off the bed entirely. Pete stays on the bed but sits up. He unzips his hoody and throws it in the direction of his bag, and it lands in a heap in the floor. His shirt follows. His jeans are close to disgusting, but he has a fresh pair for tomorrow, ones that have actually been washed since they started this tour. He throws the filthy denim on a pile on the floor, separate to all of his other clothes, and taking full advantage of the fact that it’s his floor for the night to litter as he chooses.

Pete is down to his skin except for his underwear, and now is not the time to be modest about nudity, though Pete is rarely modest about his body anyway. He and Mikey have spent many long hours curled around each other, naked and fooling around, fingers and mouths exploring. Yet for some reason a shower feels very intimate. He ignores it though, dumping his boxers on the floor, and letting it all hang out. 

He catches Mikey watching him while he too gets undressed, and Mikey’s just in his boxers now, looking long-limbed and awkward by the bathroom door. There’s a beat of hesitation before Mikey let’s his boxers fall to the floor too; maybe Mikey feels the difference between hiding in a bunk together, and leaving each other exposed in a big, bright hotel room, too. There’s nowhere to hide.

The shower itself is not huge. For some reason Pete had imagined an expansive glass-walled box that would fit a whole football team if needs be. In reality it’s not much bigger than the shower in his parents’ place, but there’s definitely room enough for two boys in desperate need of a long hot shower.

The water is achingly hot, and Pete stands directly under it for possibly too long, until his chest is scorched, and then he turns around and blasts his back and shoulders too. He groans, because after so long with a shitty, tiny tour bus shower, and sometimes even washing with wet-wipes or a hosepipe, an actual shower feels so damn good. It’s made better because when he opens his eyes, Mikey is naked and watching him.

“Get in here. It feels so good.”  
“On it,” Mikey says. He places his glasses carefully on the little shelf above the sink, and then takes Pete’s outstretched hand, coming in under the water. His reaction is close to Pete’s; flinching at the heat, and then luxuriating in it. 

There’s little bottles of hotel shower gel, but Pete also has a bottle he remembered to bring with him. Squeezing a generous blob into his hand, he starts by washing his chest, armpits, arms, working his way down. He watches Mikey do the same, and he really likes that Mikey is using his shower gel rather than the hotel stuff because it’s like leaving his scent all over Mikey’s skin, marking him.

They take turns washing each other’s backs and shoulders, and Pete marvels at how Mikey’s pale and sun-deprived skin goes so pink and raw under the almost-scalding water. 

Pete lets himself enjoy the sight of Mikey soaping his palms up and beginning to wash himself. It’s true that any of their naked-time has been inside of small bunks, so he hasn’t had much of a chance to view all of Mikey’s body in one go. But he’s gorgeous, every inch of him, from the slope of his shoulders, to the dimples above his ass, to the long lines of his back and thighs, to the fine hair on his chest and belly. All of him.

“Do I need to do anything different when I wash your ink? Like wash it harder or less hard or anything?” Mikey is behind Pete, washing over his back hard enough to get some of the knots out. He squeezes at the tension in Pete’s shoulders, and Pete closes his eyes and sighs happily.  
“No, it’s just normal skin, dude.” But Mikey’s question is adorable, and Pete’s stomach flips.  
“But I won’t, like, wash the ink out?”  
“No,” Pete says, turning around so that Mikey can re-wash his already washed chest for him. “You’re very gentle.” 

Mikey blushes in reply.

Mikey scrubs Pete’s hair for him, and there’s seriously a ton of product in there, all built up from days and days of over-styling. Pete helps Mikey out with his hair too, and makes him a fetching shampoo-Mohawk, even though he has to push up onto his toes to do it.  
“Dude, you could pull off a Mohawk.”  
“Maybe not a shampoo one. I bet you’d look hot with a ‘hawk.”  
“I think replacing my stupid bangs with something that takes even longer to fix might not be the best idea,” he grins, but files away the thought that Mikey said he’d look _hot_ like that.

Pete washes his balls himself. It’s unsaid, but really there’s no need for anyone to clean another guys sweaty junk in the shower, and they both get that. It’s just a quick wash, Pete not wanting to go to town on himself and really wanting to keep their shower PG. Armpits, too; there’s no need for Mikey Way to wash Pete’s stinky pits.

There's some kissing under the hot water, sweet little slow kisses that give Pete major butterflies, especially when Mikey holds his hand, too. Pete supposes that they could have shower sex now, and he wouldn’t be opposed to getting on his knees under the hot water, he’d do anything for Mikey. Mikey looks so fucking beautiful, all shower soaked and squeaky clean, but they have a big bed and Pete really wants to spread Mikey out and the snuggle the shit out of him without interruption instead. 

Mikey seems to be feeling the same, because after a final rinse, he switches off the water and gropes around in the general direction of the towels, landing his hand on one and passing it to Pete, before repeating the process for his own.

Pete is not too careful with his drying, rubbing roughly at his hair, and then his skin. He feels like he’s lost at least one layer of skin and he’s perfectly fine with that so long as the sweat and dirt and filth are gone too. He catches his reflection in the mirror and grins wildly at himself; his hair is fluffy and askew, and he realises that he and Mikey have never seen each other with un-styled hair.

“Are you gonna iron your hair?” he asks. He turns around to watch Mikey drying himself off, and Mikey hair looks about as artistic as his own right now.  
“Nah. I’ll sort it on the bus tomorrow. No point wasting hotel time on it. You?”  
“Nope. I’ll wear a hat in the morning until I can sort it. Takes too long.”

They brush their teeth together too, white hotel towels knotted around their waists, grinning at each other in the mirror, and taking turns to spit into the sink.

Pete gets to the bed first, and his towel is abandoned as he lies with legs and arms outstretched, trying to take up all four corners of the bed, just because he can.

“Dude, seriously?” Mikey says, and his tone is amused.  
“I just want to stretch for a second. Fuck, it’s the size of about four bunks. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to sleep in a double bed.”  
“You don’t even sleep when you’re in your bunk.”  
“Yeah, but I’m not sleeping now either. It’s just nice. Wanna snuggle?”

Pete shifts over and pats the bed covers beside him. Mikey nods, loses his towel, and then he’s right up beside Pete. Mikey lies flat on his back, and Pete scoots down far enough to get his head low on Mikey’s chest. In this position, if they were in a bunk right now, Pete’s bare ass would be sticking out through the curtain and into the isle, and this is the exact position he’d wanted to be in when he thumped his head off his bunk days ago. Right now, Pete couldn’t care less about the tour or responsibilities or the doom in his head. 

Time has been paused, and he smiles against Mikey’s ribcage. Really, this is his favourite moment of the whole evening, and they spend a long time being silent, with Pete drawing circles on Mikey’s flat stomach and skinny hips, and Mikey softly carding through Pete’s unkempt hair. 

“I wish we had a hotel night and then a day off tomorrow. We could stay in bed late and then go find somewhere for pancakes,” Pete murmurs into Mikey’s ribs.  
“Yeah, that sounds pretty good. We have a day off in a few days, though.”  
“Wanna hang out and do something?”  
“Like what?”  
“Another waterpark?”  
“Maybe?”  
“Will you take your shirt off this time?”  
“Nope,” Mikey says, and there’s a little laugh in there. Pete asks every time, and he will again, because the prospect of spending the day with Mikey with more than half of his gorgeous skin on show is pretty wonderful. “You’re not getting me running around without a shirt on, what with sunburn and kids with cameras.”  
“Think about it and I’ll make it worth your while if you do,” Pete says and he leaves it there as a temptation even if he knows he won’t get his way.

When Pete feels the air-con starting to chill his skin, they wriggle under the covers, and even that feels like a luxury; fresh, crisp sheets feel fantastic against his clean skin. His own sheets are a fucking bio-hazard in comparison. He hums contentedly as he gets comfortable, and he and Mikey snake arms around waists and tangle their legs together. Mikey feels amazing in Pete’s arms, his skin warm and still shower-damp in places.

“Mmm. This is a proper cuddling bed.”  
“Yeah. The bunks are probably going to feel even smaller in comparison now.”  
“Shh,” Pete says, closing his eyes. “Let’s not think about that.”  
“Mmm. This is the best hotel nigh I’ve had in a long time.” Mikey says, and his voice is quieter, more sincere. Pete knows he means it.  
“Me too.” Pete yawns, big and wide, and his eyes feel heavy even if he knows he never sleeps easily.

“I’m gonna make you come really hard in the morning,” Mikey says and the last word is stifled by a big yawn. “Sleepy now.”  
“You better.” Yes, Pete wanted a cuddly evening with Mikey, but a hotel room without an orgasm feels like a waste.

Mikey grins and kisses Pete again, slowly and sweetly, and then turns on his side for Pete to cuddle against his back. 

Pete wraps his arm tight around Mikey’s waist and breathes in the smell of Mikey’s damp hair. He closes his eyes and concentrates on matching his breathing to Mikey’s, willing his mind to be still enough to knock himself out. He drifts off after not long at all by his standards, and has the single best night’s sleep since the beginning of Warped.


End file.
